


The Dawnbreaker's Song

by TheRedPalaaladin (Thighz)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean's are still 'shifters', Alternate Universe, Fantasy, First Kiss, First Meetings, Forbidden Love, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, They're destined for one another no matter the universe, but with a twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/TheRedPalaaladin
Summary: The planet of Altea rests on the third belt of a system born from pure quintessence. It is lush with towering trees, decadent waterfalls, fragrant with fields of multi-colored wildflowers, and is home to the most beautiful species of alien in the universe.Or so the legends say.Very few have ever seen them.None can quite remember what they saw.





	The Dawnbreaker's Song

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this for so long my brain is dead. I stared at this chapter for a straight week before deeming it worthy to post.
> 
> I'm still - ambivalent.
> 
> BUT excited, because this is my favorite type of fantasy to write.
> 
> _Enjoy_

The planet of Altea rests on the third belt of a system born from pure quintessence. It is lush with towering trees, decadent waterfalls, fragrant with fields of multi-colored wildflowers, and is home to the most beautiful species of alien in the universe.

Or so the legends say.

Very few have ever seen them.

None can quite remember what they saw.

Those who have, are part of an ancient sect of warriors trained to guide the species to and from their sacred mating grounds. It is a tedious journey, rife with peril, as it takes an entire moon cycle to navigate Altea’s untouched wilderness.

Warriors are trained throughout their lives. They are taught to speak and read the ancient language, to memorize terrain and navigate without seeing. They are provided lessons in combat and warfare, should an attack ever occur during the ritual.

They are given one rule:

_ Do not interfere with the Dawnbreaker’s Song. _

 

 **Chapter One**  

_New Moon_   
  


 

Keith wakes to rainfall against the fabric of his private tent. He is not used to the melodic chirp of birds nor the hum of soaked insect wings. It’s a soothing sound, although unfamiliar after spending so long inside simulated quarters.

He sits up slow, body heavy from sleeping on the ground instead of his nice, warm bed back at the base.

Voices whisper outside of his tent. Hulking shapes wander past, their words quiet. The weapons on their hips stand out in the shadows of a new sun. He recognizes Antok’s gait and Regris’ tail.

They are here to make sure he is delivered without ambush. 

Of course, there has never been an ambush on the Altean ancients since the dawn of time, but the Marmora have always been overly cautious.

Rightfully so, as the universe has jumped ahead in technology, in trade, in time. While Altea remains the last habitable planet untouched by outsiders.

And Keith is here to carry out a tradition older than any known civilization.

“The sun has risen.” Antok’s massive shape fills out the front of his tiny tent, “Rise with it.”

“I’m already up.” Keith stretches his arms behind his head, yawn rumbling free and toes flexing under the warm blankets.

“We have half a days walk before we reach the meeting point.” Antok bows his head and walks away.

Keith flops back onto his pillow and blows a strand of hair away from his nose. He stares up at the ceiling of the tent, watching rainwater roll off in smooth patterns. Nerves dance around inside his belly. He’s been training for this most of his life - even more so this last winter when the yalmor called for an early spring.

He was chosen at first snowfall.

A shimmering silver bird swooped in and dusted him in raw quintessence.

His mother had looked so proud - she’d wasted no time in beginning the final stage of his training..

Antok passes by once more, signaling that Keith is taking too long to ready for the day. He rolls his eyes and kicks the covers free, “I’m coming.”

“Do not dawdle.” Antok reminds him gruffly.

Keith mumbles under his breath as he gathers the dark purple and black ensemble woven for this very journey. So few get to wear the garments made from quintessence and the materials of the planet. 

Keith’s fingers skim the soft, giving fabric at his sides before sealing it closed and strapping his weapons and armor down.

He emerges just as the rain has slowed to a drizzle. Regris has doused the flames of their evening fire and a bowl rests on a log, steaming with breakfast.

Keith eats quickly, then helps his guards tear down the camp and pack for the last stretch of the journey.

“Are you nervous?” Regris whispers to him at mid-day.

They are cooling near a stream, taking in water and switching out packs.

“No.” Keith holds his chin up, “I’m ready.”

Regris cracks a smile, “I am glad to hear it. Krolia is very proud of you.”

Keith warms under the praise.

Antok waves them to move on.

Keith walks between them, the sounds of the forest bright and warm. Each tree stretches taller than any he has ever seen before. If he climbed one - he wonders if the sky would greet him at the very top.

Creatures skuttle and squeak as they pass. They touch nothing - no plants, no animals, only what they require to survive.

Keith’s body is trained to stay up for long, exhausting hours, but after traveling for two days from the landing of their ship - he is glad to finally reach the meeting place. He knows he still has a long ways to go. A whole cycle worth of travel, but he’ll be glad for the quick break.

They reach a natural clearing filled with blooming flowers of pure white. A rock rests in the center, worn by age, half sunken into the ground - as though the planet is trying to swallow it whole.

Keith knows what he must do.

He hands Regris the extra pack, keeping only his own. His belly tightens as he approaches the rock and takes a hesitant seat.

He sucks in a slow, steady breath as he feels Antok hover behind him, “The Alteans have honored you.”

“They have.” Keith whispers, staring out at the breathtaking spread of flowers.

“You will honor them in return.” Antok’s clawed hands slip around Keith’s head - a shimmering golden mask with silver ribbons pinched between his fingers.

“I will.” Keith replies, throat clenching as the sacred item snuffs out his vision.

“Recite the Rule.” Regris demands.

“Do not interrupt the Dawnbreaker’s song.” Keith replies.

Two different hands squeeze each of his shoulders, “Guide well.”

“Travel safe.” Keith murmurs.

Then, with a gust of wind, he is alone.

  
  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith doesn’t know exactly how long he sits on the rock in the middle of the foreign woods. He does know it’s been hours, as his backside aches and the sun is no doubt breaking through the canopy of trees above him. 

However, he can feel the air beginning to cool, a new set of sounds build to a crescendo from the forest surrounding him.

The sun is starting to set.

Keith steels himself, throwing his shoulders back and attempting to keep his posture as regal as possible.

_ First impressions are everything _ , His mother’s voice is a firm reminder in his head.

More time passes, he grows weary - 

He starts to wonder if the whole thing is a giant joke and that any moment Antok and Regris will burst out and drag him home.

That’s not the case - Keith knows. He’s heard the stories from former guides. The murky memories told over dinner, during combat, whispered as bedtime stories for the younger generations.

The ground shakes.

Keith freezes.

It quakes once more beneath his feet, not enough to fear a crack in the planets structure, but just enough to tell him something is drawing near.

A  _ lot _ of somethings. A lot of  _ heavy _ somethings.

His fingers curl into his thighs, twisting at the fabric of the traditional suit. The shaking comes from behind him, from the left and the right, surrounding him. Blocking him inside the clearing with no way to escape.

A huff erupts at his front.

Warm, humid air wafts against his face, ruffling his hair.

“Name yourself.” A woman’s voice - heavy with the ancient language, yet gentle like first snowfall.

“My name is Keith.” Keith replies, holding his head high despite the shake in his voice.

Another huff of breath.

It reminds him of the four legged creatures from the planet his father is from.

“I am Allura.” She murmurs, “We welcome you as our guide.”

“It is an honor to be.” Keith recites.

“The moon matches sky this eve.” She sounds farther away, head no doubt lifting to address the other creatures surrounding him, “The journey to Oriande begins.” Soft, murmuring bleats reply - a symphony of sound from all corners of the clearing.

It rises and falls, growing with every second. Light disappears completely from the edges of the mask. The bleats become murmurs and excited words in a language Keith has spent his entire life studying.

A cool hand cups his cheek, thumb brushing above his ear where the ribbon loops around the back of his head, “You may gaze upon us.” Her fingers move quick, plucking at the tie. The mask drops into his lap.

Revealing a stunning woman dressed in a pale blue dress. Her hair is blindingly white, cropped short with curls around pointed ears, smile soft in the light of glowing insects. The hand responsible for untying the mask falls against her side.

There are more of her kind behind her, all in different shapes and sizes, heights and ages. Dozens of them, all equally so beautiful it hurts to stare too long.

Keith suddenly understands what the mask is for.

“You look exhausted.” Allura frowns, “Have you eaten?”

“I have not.” Keith replies, hesitant.

He eyes the Altean’s as they set up a camp in the clearing. Excited chatter fills the area, a few of them peer around one another to look at Keith. Some point, others slap the hands away with giggles.

“Forgive them.” Allura huffs, “They don’t meet many outsiders.” She turns a warm smile towards him, “Although, you do not look like our usual Marmoran Guide.”

Keith wants to stand up, his backside stings, “I’m half human.”

Allura’s eyebrows go up, “Human? Why - the Sol system is  _ light years _ away.”

Keith has to look away from her, “Uh - sorry your - highness? I was told not to speak unless I was guiding.”

Allura lets out an idigant sound, “Really? Whyever so? That would be a terribly lonesome voyage for you.”

“It’s what I was trained for.” Keith shrugs, counting a cluster of white flowers near his right boot.

“Empress?” A low, rolling voice pulls Allura’s attention from him.

Keith chances a glance up, only to regret it - as a man with hair nearly as white as Allura’s - steps close. He’s wearing a startling purple tunic and pants, hair braided over his shoulder, facial features angular, “There is yet another mating dispute between the first seasoners. With rut so close, they are being - oh. Is this our guide?”

“He is!” Allura beams.

“Tiny thing, isn’t he?”

“ _ Lotor _ .” Allura hisses.

Keith scowls up at him and gains a twitch of a smirk in return.

“Bring me to them.” Allura heaves a weary sigh, then looks down at Keith once more, “Please make yourself at home. I will find you again before we retire for the evening to discuss your guiding duties further. We have a much larger group this year.”

“A blessing.” Lotor hums as he holds out his arm.

Allura takes it with a smile and together they head towards a group of younger Alteans obviously bickering near their half-set tents. 

Keith studies them for a while, fingers playing with the strings of his pack as Allura peacefully resolves the situation with a firm voice and pointed fingers.

Lotor stands at her side, arms behind his back and looking over at her with an expression Keith can only describe as infatuation.

The rest of the Alteans go about their business, clearly comfortable with one another and not at all afraid of the month long journey ahead. The conversations blossom and it’s easy to tell who is already mated and looking to start a family, and who is still searching and hoping to meet their match on the journey itself.

Keith remembers his mother telling him the stories when he was growing up.

Altean’s mate for life. 

The mating journey to Oriande is where couples go to be married under a sacred tree in the middle of a lake made of blue gold. Sometimes they fall in love before and the journey tests their bond. Others find love during. Some must wait until the next season to meet their match. Others join the journey in hopes of fertility granted from the old gods who birthed the lake.

Keith’s barely in his twenty third year - according to human birthdays. He hasn’t thought about finding a mate and his mother hasn’t pressed him to find one.

He’s always assumed his destiny was in guiding. In being a Marmoran warrior. Sworn to defend planet Altea from the rest of the universe.

He’d been content with that.

He  _ is _ content with that.

“Hi!”

Keith jerks his gaze away from the camp, only to meet the cheery face of a very tall, very busty blonde in near blinding shades of yellow and pink.

“Uh - hi?”

“I’m Romelle.” She puts out a delicate hand, smile holding strong, “Allura wanted me to make sure you didn’t have any allergies to the local planetlife?”

Keith shakes his head, “Uh - No. I had to eat most of it during training.”

“Excellent!” She beams, “Dinner will be ready within the varga, until then, please make yourself at home and if you need any help with your tent, we have many hands.” She wiggles her own as an example.

“Thanks.” Keith rises up off the stone, tucking the golden mask inside a pocket on his pack and following her deeper into the makeshift camp.

He finds a spot near the edge, where the forest meets the flowerbeds. It gives him a good vantage point of the camp, its outer edges, and beyond.

It takes him little to no time at all to pitch the tent. He’s done it dozens of time since he’d come of age. His pa loved camping out in the deserts of just about any world.

Keith secures the last of his stakes before tossing his pack inside the tent. He’ll worry about setting up his bedroll later in the evening. For now, he needs to check the perimeter, then get with Allura about his duties.

He checks to make sure his knives are secure before stepping into the woods.

The forest comes alive with sound. Shadows from the campfires dance against trees and bushes, making smaller creatures shadows look large as they scurry out of Keith’s way. It should be terrifying, Keith should be nervous and afraid, tossed onto a new planet without his people. 

Instead, it’s calming. The sounds, the smells, the happy chatter to his left.

Keith continues his walk, keeping a sharp eye on the Alteans.

He’s nearly made a full circle when a voice stops him in his tracks.

“You’re not supposed to be out here.”

The voice is rich and wonderful and Keith’s stomach tightens at the sound.

He thinks the voice is speaking to him at first, then a whiny, “Damn it Shiro, you alway ruin the fun.” cuts through the forest noise.

“I told you.” Another male voice sighs.

“You know the rules, both of you.” The sensual voice again, this time firmer, more authoritative, sending a shiver down Keith’s spine, “Lance, I expect this from you, but Hunk, really?”

“We’re just excited.”

“You can be excited and not break the rules.” The sound of fingers snapping, “March.”

Keith steps through the trees just as a tall, lanky brunette walks off towards the camp with hunched shoulders. A larger man follows him, he gives Keith a warm smile and a wave before continuing after his agitated friend? Mate?

“First seasoners.” Comes an irritated mumble to Keith’s right.

Keith drags his gaze in the direction of the voice and loses the ability to breathe for a full minute.

The Altean is  _ gorgeous.  _

He’s tall, much taller than Keith, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His jawline is as sharp as Keith’s many blades, but the rest of his features are soft even with the faded scar curved over the bridge of his nose. And all of it framed by long, tarnished silver hair pulled completely over one shoulder, leaving a tuft of it hanging above his forehead.

Warm, grey eyes land on Keith.

“Hello.” The frustration on that stunning face melts away, “You must be our new guide, Keith, right?” He curls an arm across his belly and bows low, “My name is Shiro.”

“Hi.” Keith croaks, then hastily clears his throat, “I mean. Hello.”

“Making the rounds?” Shiro asks curiously.

Keith nods, “I didn’t see them here on my first run.”

Shiro makes a face, “They were waiting for Allura and Lotor to be preoccupied with the other first seasoners. They didn’t see  _ me _ , however.”

“I take it that’s - normal?” Keith asks hesitantly, “Them sneaking off? Will I be breaking that up too?”

Shiro lets out a laugh, “Hopefully not, but yes it’s normal. Everyone’s so eager to get to the mating, they forget the journey is the important part.”

Keith could bask in the sound of his voice forever.

“I’m hoping Allura explains a little bit more.” Keith rubs the back of his neck, “We aren’t told much, mostly because we forget before we leave, so I’m a little nervous.”

Shiro’s smile softens and a large, warm palm falls on Keith’s shoulder, squeezing once, “Don’t worry, you’re going to do great.”

Keith’s whole body lights up from the inside at that single touch. His throat tightens and he hollows out when Shiro’s hand slips away. He wants it back immediately. 

“Smells like Romelle and the gang finished dinner.” Shiro waves him out of the woods, “Let’s eat and get you settled in.”

Keith watches Shiro wander back to the camp.

His fingers skim the lingering warmth on his shoulder.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith doesn’t realize he’s been staring at Shiro throughout dinner until Allura steps into his field of vision. He nearly drops the bowl he’d been given to eat out of.

He drags his eyes up the length of her until he meets a curious gaze, “Ready to talk?”

Keith nods.

She twists on her bare feet, then holds out her arm, “Walk with me, Keith.”

He stands to meet her, curving his elbow so she can loop her arm through the opening. She does so with a gentle smile, taking the bowl from him with her free hand and passing over to one of the other Altean’s.

She guides him through the camp until they reach the stone steat he’d waited on before their arrival. The chatter of the camp itself fades to almost nothing, until the only thing Keith can hear is the breathing of the forest itself.

“You seem nervous.” Allura releases his arm, then smoothes her dress down the back, taking a seat on the stone.

“Not nervous.” Keith says, “I’ve prepared for this my whole life.”

“Hm.” She hums, “Unsure, then.”

“I guess?” Keith shrugs.

“Considering your limited knowledge of us, that is to be expected.” Allura states, “That knowledge is limited for a reason. It keeps us safe.”

“Of course, your majesty.” Keith bows his head.

“You are simply given the terrain and the ability to guide us through it without sight, a gift that we admire.” Allura is smiling again, “And a gift we are also thankful for, as our - celestial forms have been kept secret since the birth of the universe.”

“It’s no hardship.” Keith murmurs, “We’re happy to guide.”

“Then you will be happy to follow my rules?” Allura asks.

“Without hesitation.” Keith lifts his chin.

Allura stares up at him for a long moment, features neutral, “You will guide us through the days. We can not travel at night. Your mask must be worn from sunrise to sunset, is that clear?”

Keith nods, determined.

“When you retire for the night, you must not leave your tent until the Dawnbreaker’s song is complete.”

Keith regards her carefully, “If it’s an emergency?”

“Wear the mask.” She inclines her head.

“You may speak to anyone here. You may enjoy our company and ask about our history. We welcome your questions, your curiosity, within reason.” Allura rises slowly, “My only request is keep to your own tent. Under no circumstances are you to fraternize with my people.”

Keith conjures up an image of the tall, gorgeous Altean named Shiro without thinking.

“Understood.”

Allura claps her hands together with a bright smile, “Excellent. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Keith lifts a finger, “Our golden rule is not to interfere with the Dawnbreaker’s song. What exactly  _ is _ a Dawnbreaker?”

“A closely guarded secret.” Allura sombers quickly, “A secret we are forbidden to reveal. Only understand they are crucial to our survival during this journey, Keith.” She puts her hands on each of his shoulders, “It means the difference between life and death for my people.”

“Then I will not ask again.” Keith replies.

“This is a joyous journey for us, Keith.” Allura explains, “I wish for it to be just as joyful for you.” Her hands slip down his shoulders as she turns to walk back to the camp, “Rest well, we leave at at the dawn.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


_ A world of iridescent blue.  _

_ It shimmers and wavers, licking against his skin and washing away the heat from a hot summer day. It reminds him of the first seasons rain in the deserts of his father’s homeworld. It’s the color of a sky without clouds. The color of oceans on planets all over the universe. _

_ It brings memories of his mother handing him a pink and white shell from the surf of a green sea. _

_ It whistles in his ears. _

_ It sings a sonnet to his soul. _

_ A sad, sorrowful melody that brings heated tears to Keith’s eyes as he sits up in the middle of a glass pool. _

_ There’s something standing on the shore of a small island. _

_ Keith can’t see it through the fog of tears. _

_ The blur lifts its head to the sky. _

_ The song breaks Keith’s heart. _

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith jerks awake, head swimming with the dream and heart racing. He sits up quickly, hand patting around for his mask. The sunlight is already starting to bleed through the walls of his tent and it won’t be long before the Altean’s will be ready to leave.

He packs his small satchel and dons the uniform of the guides all with the mask pressed tight to his face. He’s practiced this routine every day for  _ years _ . He’s studied the maps of the planet, memorized the route to Oriande, knows how to fight with his ears instead of his eyes.

He was born for this mission.

The air is crisp and clean with early morning dew as he exits the tent. He snags a breakfast substitute from his pack after tearing down his tent and strapping it against his back.

“Is everyone ready?” Keith asks, walking confidently across the grassy clearing despite not being able to see.

“I believe so.” Allura’s voice replies.

Keith lifts his face to the warmth of a new day, licks his finger and lifts it to the sky. A gentle wind moves in from the south, their destination to the north.

“We’ll be in open fields a good portion of the journey.” Keith reminds them, “And there is a creek bed we should reach by nightfall. We’ll need to fill as many canteens as we can. There won’t be another body of water for three days.”

A low murmur of agreement is the reply.

“Any questions?” Keith asks.

“You’re way smaller than the other Guide’s.” It’s the voice of the despondent first seasoner Shiro caught in the woods.

“I’m only half Galra.” Keith replies, “Any less annoying and personal questions?”

“Hey!”

“Shut  _ up _ , Lance.” A new voice, possibly female, Keith’s not sure.

“We are in your care, Keith.” The warmth of Shiro’s voice puts a smile on Keith’s face far too quickly. He’s glad for the mask.

“None of us actually know the way to Oriande.” Lotor’s regal accent cuts in, “So we are putting our lives and future children quite literally in your hands.”

Keith tenses, “No pressure or anything.”

A firm thud against the ground near Keith’s feet. A massive body crowding closer to where he stands, and Shiro’s voice leaving no room for argument, “You’re going to do fine.”

Keith turns his face up towards the voice. 

Shiro was pretty tall already, but this time, his voice carries higher above Keith than he remembers. As though he’d grown a couple more feet once morning came.

He wonders what they look like during the day. What shape they take when the sun rises into the sky.

He’s not allowed to ask. He’s not allowed to know.

“Thanks.”

“Lead the way, Keith.” Allura declares.

Keith nods once, twists around on his heels, and begins the journey to Oriande.

  
  


~*~*~

 

The first day passes with no hiccups. They’re still protected by the overhang of the forest treets, so sun exposure and lack of hydration don’t concern Keith. It’s once they’re out in the open, far from cover and with nowhere to hide from the elements, that he’s dreading.

Keith himself loathed and loved survival training. It pushed his limits, it broadened his skill set, but the exhaustion of it never got easier.

“How many of you have taken this journey before?” Keith asks.

“I’m a first seasoner.” The voice who seems to be constantly picking on ‘Lance’ replies, “So, never.”

“This will be my second time.” Allura says.

“As is mine.” Lotor joins.

“We’re first seasoners, too.” Hunk cuts in, “Although this is technically Lance’s second time making the journey.”

“Eh. No one clicked with me last time.” Lance’s overconfident drawl floats over from behind.

The Altean’s all take turns sharing their journey counts with Keith. It kills a good bit of time and they’re all bright with excitement.

All except Shiro, who remains silent wherever he is within the group.

Keith doesn’t press for answers. Instead, he listens to some of the second and third seasoners gush about the beauty of the journey and how they wish it could be made more than one time a year.

Allura and Shiro break up an argument an hour from sunset. Voices go high and rough, a fight over a potential mate, as far as Keith can gather. He’s too preoccupied with knocking on the trees and tasting the grass while Allura and Shiro’s voices carry above the snapping first years.

“We need to move quickly.” Keith says, “Or we won’t make it to the creek by nightfall.”

“Reign in your tempers.” Shiro orders.

The group goes quiet and Keith is finally able to lead them to the creek.

Nightfall comes swiftly thereafter. The air is crisper this close to the creek bed. Once the sun has departed from the sky, it grows cold quickly.

Allura gives him the all clear with a gentle squeeze against his bicep, “Please rest.” She’s smiling at him as he lowers the mask, “You did very well today.”

Keith huffs, but shares a half-smile with her, “This is the easy part of the journey.”

“I know, but it is good to be grateful no matter how easy or hard the part is.” She squeezes his arm again before moving swiftly away, clapping her hands together and assigning tasks to the lingering parts of the group.

After Keith’s set up his tent again for the night, he pulls the two canteens provided by his mother from his pack and heads for the creek.

He takes his time filling them up. The camp is just behind him, so he toes off his shoes and slips his feet into the chilly water with a sigh. Water worn pebbles shift under his toes, the night breeze rustles his hair.

Keith closes his eyes.

The peace lasts for only a moment before someone plops down to his right, “I have a question.”

Keith cracks open and eye to look at the familiar voice.

It belongs to a young altean, hair short and brown, dressed in muted shades of green.

Keith hums, “What’s the question?”

“How do you know where you’re going?” They ask, “I mean, obviously you had to have studied our planet extensively for  _ years _ , but I’m still confused about how you can do it without actually being able to see the land and -.”

“Whoa. Whoa.” Keith holds up a hand, “Slow down.”

They inhale, “I’m Pidge, by the way. Or Katie? Mostly Pidge.”

A hand slaps down against Pidge’s hair, “I have two questions.”

Tall, lanky brunette is back.

“I haven’t answered -.”

“What’s with your  _ hair? _ I thought Galra were purple and furry, you’re skin is the same as ours!” Pidge slaps his hand out of her hair.

Keith reaches up to tuck at his long, black locks with a frown, “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing.” Pidge elbows Lance in the thigh. He yelps and covers it with both hands, “Ignore him.”

Keith watches them bicker at one another for a good five minutes. He wiggles his toes in the water, noticing they’re starting to prune. He reluctantly pulls them out and props them on a nearby rock to dry.

“I can show you my maps later.” Keith offers, “If you want to see my process.”

“Yes!” Pidge exclaims.

“Nerds.” Lance waves a hand.

“Alright you two, don’t you have tasks to handle?”

Keith straightens at the sound of Shiro’s voice. He casts a hesitant look over his shoulder as Shiro approaches, dressed in soft tones of grey and silver. His hair is braided today, feet bare and a bag of empty canteens under his left arm.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance grumbles, “Come on, Pidge.”

“I’ll swing by after dinner, okay?” Pidge whispers at Keith.

“Sure.” Keith replies as the two of them wander off, still bickering.

“Think you can lend me a hand?” Shiro shakes the bag of bottles with a grin, “You did say we’ll need all the extra water we can carry.”

Keith holds out a hand, “Sure.”

Shiro finds a seat on Keith’s left side, setting the bag between them and pulling the first bottle out to be filled.

He’s wearing a something akin to a sweater, probably due to the light chill in the air. Keith admires the well-defined swell of his biceps as those large hands make quick work of yanking the sleeves up to his elbows.

Keith’s eyes focus in on his right arm instantly. It’s soot black from the tips of his finger, to the cuff off the sleeve hooked at his elbow.

It must show on his face because Shiro meets his gaze, “It’s what happens when you don’t think before you act.”

Keith furrows his brow, “Does it hurt?”

“Not in a long time.” Shiro replies.

Keith picks up one of the bottles and fills it quickly. They work in a strangely comfortable silence, movements in tandem, the creek the only song. Shiro’s warmth is tangible even with over a foot separating them. His presence is warm, Keith decides after a while. Shiro radiates comfort and safety from every pore and Keith is drinking it up like he’s been dying of thirst.

“This will be my sixth time.” The words are soft, guarded.

Keith caps another bottle, doesn’t speak.

“I didn’t want to bring the whole group down.” Shiro’s laugh is self-deprecating, “The journey loses a lot of its excitement after the fourth time.”

Keith frowns, “You’ve never -?”

“Had a mate? No.” Shiro sighs, “Almost, on my second journey. I was  _ so close _ , but he fell for another second seasoner along the way. Pretty sucky, right?”

“That is absolutely sucky.” Keith huffs, “What an ass.”

A laugh rumbles out of Shiro, “It was a long time ago.”

“Why do you keep coming?” Keith asks.

“At first is was to prove there was someone else for me besides him.” Shiro leans back onto his hands, staring up at the canopy of trees above the creek, “Now I’m here because I need to be. I’m not looking for a mate anymore.”

Keith caps the last canteen and places it in the bag with the others. He tries to tie it off carefully, fingers chilled from the cold water. The tie slips and Keith growls, attempting it again.

Shiro laughs again, a pleasant, light sound as his hands move to take over. Their fingers brush as Shiro takes hold.

“Your hands are freezing.” Horror passes over Shiro’s face as he releases the ties to the bag and slaps both hands over Keith’s - trapping them between his palms.

Keith instinctively tries to pull away, but Shiro is already dragging their hands up to his mouth and blowing warm air into the cavern.

The numbness dissipates within a few seconds and Keith wiggles his fingers, “Neat trick.”

“Galra normally have body temperatures to match ours.” Shiro continues to rub his hands over Keith’s, sending shivers of heat up his arms and down to his belly, “I guess human physiology doesn’t regulate your temperature in harsh climates?”

“It does, in a way.” Keith’s throat is tight, heart racing, “I think they’re warm now.”

“Oh!” Shiro drops his hands with a flush, “Sorry.”

Keith makes a fist, “Don’t worry about it. Saves me the trouble of shoving them under my armpits.”

Shiro huffs out a laugh.

A voice carries towards them from the camp, announcing that dinner is ready. Keith rises first, putting out a hand and surprising Shiro with his strength as he lifts the bigger man off the shore of the creek.

They walk back together, Shiro’s voice soft as he introduces the rest of the group to Keith.

Someone hands him a bowl of fragrant soup and a sliver of bread. He sits beside Pidge, who is still tittering with excitement over the maps in Keith’s tent.

Shiro sits beside him, their arms brushing as they eat.

Keith can’t stop the frantic singing in his blood nor the skipping beats of his heart. He checks to make sure Allura isn’t looking at them. He’s almost certain this stupid, day old crush will be obvious to someone as sharp as her.

She’s speaking to Lotor, chin in hand and not at all paying attention to Keith’s sudden dilemma.

He finishes his dinner in silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

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